Ding!
[Host has been reborn.]
[Host has awakened the Primordial Beast System.]
[Host has been awarded beginner-level skills.]
[Dragon Rage: Lvl 1]
Description: Allows the user to draw on the primal power of dragons, greatly enhancing physical abilities.
[Regeneration: Lvl 1]
Description: Repairs broken bones and tissues in seconds, enabling the host to recover from even the most severe injuries.
[Beast Form: Lvl 2]
Description: Transformation is inevitable. Host will manifest draconic features such as wings, horns, claws, and scales, boosting combat capabilities.
The system's mechanical voice echoed through Darian's mind, pulling him from the darkness. His eyes shot open, their amber hue replaced by a reptilian gleam. For a moment, confusion reigned as he stared at the jagged ceiling of the cavern, the scent of blood and stone assaulting his senses.
Then, pain. Or rather, the absence of it. His mind scrambled to process what should've been agony—broken bones, torn flesh, and crushed organs. But as he sat up, his wounds knit themselves together with unnatural speed. Blood-streaked skin became whole, shattered bones fused seamlessly, and vitality flooded his body.
Darian gasped as the transformation began. His fingernails stretched and darkened, morphing into razor-sharp obsidian claws. His teeth sharpened into predatory fangs that glinted as his lips curled into a feral grin.
The orcs surrounding him froze, their crude weapons trembling in their hands. They were brutish creatures, hulking and powerful, but the aura emanating from Darian was unlike anything they'd faced before. It wasn't just power—it was predatory, primal, and suffocating.
Darian's gaze flicked toward his fallen teammates. Their bodies lay broken, lifeless on the cavern floor. A familiar ache pierced his chest—not grief, but rage. It bubbled within him, a searing inferno that demanded release. His claws flexed involuntarily, carving shallow grooves into the stone.
"You…" His voice was low and guttural, dripping with venom. He turned his gaze to the orcs, who flinched under the weight of it. "You bastards." His lips pulled back in a snarl, exposing sharp teeth. "I'll kill you. Every last one of you."
The words weren't a threat—they were a promise.
With a roar that shook the cavern, Darian launched himself forward. The ground where he once stood cracked under the force, and in an instant, he was upon the nearest orc.
It barely had time to react before his clawed hand plunged into its chest. The creature froze, its beady eyes wide with shock as Darian ripped out a glowing crimson core. For a moment, it stared dumbly at the orb in Darian's hand before collapsing, lifeless.
Darian examined the core, its faint light flickering weakly. "So, this is it," he murmured, his voice laced with curiosity and disdain. "Your precious immortality." With a cruel grin, he crushed it in his palm. Black ichor splattered across his face as the core shattered.
The other orcs recoiled, their instincts screaming at them to flee. But their leader, the massive chieftain, growled low and guttural, commanding them to hold their ground. The lesser orcs hesitated but ultimately obeyed, steeling themselves for the fight.
Darian's grin widened. "Good. I was hoping you'd make this fun."
The orcs charged, roaring as they swung their crude weapons. Darian met them head-on, his movements a blur of speed and precision.
The first orc's axe swung down, aiming to cleave him in two, but Darian sidestepped effortlessly. His claws lashed out, raking across the orc's throat. Black blood sprayed as it gurgled and fell, its core exposed. With ruthless efficiency, Darian ripped it free and crushed it, relishing the power coursing through him.
Another orc lunged at him, but Darian's senses had sharpened to an almost supernatural level. He ducked under its swing, his claws slicing clean through its arm. The creature howled in pain, but its cries were cut short as Darian's hand plunged into its chest, tearing out its life essence.
The remaining orcs hesitated, their resolve faltering as they watched their comrades fall like leaves in a storm. Darian stood amidst the carnage, his chest heaving, his body drenched in black ichor. His eyes burned with an unholy light, and his grin was nothing short of monstrous.
"Run," he growled, his voice dripping with mockery. "Go on. Run to your master."
But the chieftain's roar filled the cavern, silencing any thoughts of retreat. The massive beast stepped forward, its crimson eyes blazing with fury. The lesser orcs rallied behind it, their fear replaced by blind loyalty.
Darian chuckled darkly. "Loyalty to the bitter end, huh? Pathetic."
The ground cracked beneath his feet as he charged once more, meeting the orcs with unrelenting ferocity. His claws tore through flesh and bone, his speed and strength overwhelming them. One by one, they fell, their cores ripped free and shattered without mercy.
[Host has slain 20 mid-level orcs.]
[Host has leveled up.]
[Host has received a 100% increase in mana and stat points.]
[Host has evolved to Level 2.]
[A 10x upgrade has been applied to host's skills.]
The system's notifications flickered in his mind, but Darian ignored them, too consumed by the battle. The scent of blood filled the air, mingling with the metallic tang of fear. The cavern echoed with the dying screams of orcs, their bodies littering the ground like broken toys.
Finally, the last of the lesser orcs fell, its lifeless form crumpling at Darian's feet. He stood amidst the carnage, his chest heaving, his body trembling with exhilaration. Black ichor dripped from his claws, and his grin widened, more sinister than ever.
Across the cavern, the chieftain stood, its hulking form bathed in a crimson glow. It let out a thunderous roar, the sheer force of it shaking the cavern walls. Rocks tumbled from the ceiling, and the air grew heavy with oppressive energy.
Darian tilted his head, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Fear didn't touch him. If anything, he felt exhilarated, the thrill of facing a true challenge igniting his blood.
His body began to change once more. Scales rippled across his skin, dark and gleaming like polished obsidian. His claws elongated, sharper and deadlier than before. Horns erupted from his skull, curving back like a crown of destruction. His teeth grew sharper, his grin more feral.
A low growl rumbled in his throat as he flexed his transformed limbs, feeling the raw, primal power coursing through him. "Come on," he snarled, his voice a chilling growl. "Let's see what you've got."
The chieftain's eyes narrowed, its grip tightening on its massive axe. The ground shook with each of its steps as it advanced, its aura suffocating and deadly.
Darian crouched low, his muscles coiled like springs, ready to strike. His gaze never wavered from the chieftain, his grin never faltered.
This was no longer a battle for survival. It was a dance of death, and Darian was ready to lead.